Chapter 17

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My father opens the door.

"They are ready and we are going out soon," I say as I put on my lipstick.

"Here's some stuff," He passes me a wallet which I throw to Jordan to start counting.

"200," Jordan says. Yet again, my father is trying to win me over. Trying to get me to stay.

"If I get drunk, leave some headache tablets on the side." I comment and put away the lipstick.

"Let's go then," Jordan suggests and everyone but my father and the NCIS team leave my apartment.

"I'm going to try and not get drunk," I smile.

ABOUT 6 HOURS LATER IN THE MOSSAD ROSE XXXXXXXX

"Another one," I hold my hand out for another alcohol filled drink. The world spins slightly around me and I see glimpses of people I know in my vision, fading away then reappearing. I slap myself in the face and the world focuses around me. I meet up with my group and manage to walk out of the club without falling. The cold air hits me like a electric shot and all my drowsiness has gone away. My group consisting of Emma, Coco, Rica and Jordan are passed out, Jordan being the only one not as drunk. I haul my team into the back of our pick up truck and get into the front seats with Jordan.

We soon arrive at the Mossad headquarters, where my apartment is above the official headquarters. I grab my remaining team and drag them up the stairs into the apartment. Pulling them into the sofa, I shove pillows and duvets over their bodies before shoving my Mossad clothes on. I put my boots by the side of the sofa and wash off all my make up. Then, I finally collapse face down on the sofa in my Mossad uniform that is made up of black leggings and blood red lacy long sleeved top. My hoodie and boots are in the side. Then, I pass out on the sofa.

Ziva David - NCISWhere stories live. Discover now